Lindsay Hunter

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Hit or Miss by Lindsay Hunter

Cob was taking her to the steak place. It’s hit or miss, he always said, like maybe he didn’t know that wasn’t the best sort of endorsement. It’s hit or miss! Like it was an excitement. You could get the best meal of your life, or you could drive home in silence with a film of blood and grease and creamed spinach coating your teeth, dreaming of Colgate. Cob was like that. 

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